Dack tended to avoid family dinners when he could help it. There was always this degree of separation that undercut the volume of his rambunctious nieces and nephews, stilling the homey atmosphere of the dark brown carpet and walls, somehow lightly souring the smell of cookies in the oven. As the only Barren member of his direct family, his mother had never quite forgiven Dack for running off to the army instead of a more respectable position, like the engineers all three of his sisters had married.
Dack only tried to bring Johnathan along to one of these family dinners once. The pinched look on his mother’s face, startled look on his father’s, and midly judgemental look on his brothers-in-law (he should really remember their names) told him everything. John hadn’t even tried to bring Dack along, and once Dack had seen his family’s reactions, with John merely sending him a glance of sympathy, Dack understood why.
Dack pulled on his collar with his right hand while probing for his water filter with his left. When Dack had come home to find his youngest sister Rosa holding their niece Lizze (age five-and-three-quarters) sitting on the ratty couch in his grey, sanitized, barely-lived-in apartment in the Western Borough, his first reaction hadn’t been one of confusion but weary exasperation. He knew exactly why Rosa had come to get him, so he didn’t bother arguing.
“So Dack, I’d really appreciate it if you could help me out with this.” Marie had stated. Well, stated with the kind of expectant glint in her eye that Dack had long-since learned meant he wasn’t going to enjoy what would happen if he said ‘no.’
“I’m sorry Marie, I wasn’t paying attention. What did you want?” The brief flash of annoyance in Marie’s eyes was almost worth finding out the meaning that the glint of malicious glee in Marie’s eyes represented.
“You’re escorting Lizzie’s class on a field trip to the Wind Farm.”
“Why are we taking kids outside the walls? It’s not safe out there.”
“It’s an order from the higher-ups. They want to ease the process of being Discovered Barren.”
Dack mentally-and very nearly physically- snorted, taking a sip from his filter. It was too little too late for most of his people. Dack knew he had been one of the lucky ones- his parents disapproved far more of his membership in the Legion than his inability to have kids or homosexuality. He had had Aunt Ophelia too, and she had shown him something to latch onto in the early days when he felt his world crumbling beneath his feet.
“And if I asked my commander, I’d be told it’s a PR thing, and to go along with it?”
“It’s always nice when you remind us you’re not just a blockheaded soldier.”
Dack shrugged. An excuse to leave the Wall and still get paid didn’t sound too bad every once in a while, and supervising Lizzie would be manageable as well.
“When?”
“Monday, dear brother. Come back for dinner on Sunday to pick her up.”
“See you then.”
Dack stood separate from the milling group of children, a bit above them on the slope of the farm. From here he could see miles of green, distant forest and all eight of the turbines. Power lines stretched behind him, and if he looked behind he would see those lines stretching back to the walls of Phanes Bay.
Watching the environment around him, Dack categorized anything potentially hazardous- any potential vectors of attack- before looking at the people he was here with. The engineers and soldiers lazing about on farm duty were normal, and barely worth observation. So, too, were the children, too young for distinctive, interesting personalities to have developed yet.
Lizzie’s teacher- Mr. Moore- was a contradiction. He clearly commanded the respect of his entire class- not something Dack was willing to underestimate, children sometimes had more in common with Legionnaires than most were willing to admit- and he clearly loved his job. In fact, judging by the assured energy and satisfaction Moore seemed to exude for anyone who cared to look, Moore loved children.
He was attractive- in a nerdy way that Dack could see some people going for- reasonably young- Dack would be genuinely surprised if Moore was any older than Rosa- and Moore had a steady job.
But there was no ring on his left ring finger.
Dack didn’t see what the point of a marriage was, in all honesty, and he knew most of the Barren he knew felt the same. Family and Marriage both seemed human conceits, focused on child-rearing. Like most Barren, Dack’s family was his parents, his siblings, and his nephews and nieces.
But again, Moore wasn’t married. Dack knew Moore was Human- there was a very small subset of Barren who worked as teachers, and they were mostly split between the military academy and a couple of paths in the trade school. None of them taught at the primary schools.
“Hm?” Dack grunted, seeing the focus of his thoughts next to him, taking advantage of Dack’s chosen vantage point to also watch the children.
“The armor. I know white shoulderpads mean police, but I’ve never seen anything quite like what you have before.”
Dack supposed he wouldn’t- white spikes, jutting a couple inches behind the shoulder, coming down about halfway to his elbows in skintight leather. Gauntlets that gave about a half an inch gap before his elbow that spiked up to just meet the bottom of his shoulder extensions, laced with concentric red and white lines forming a spiral up his arms. Not a common sight, by any means.
“I’d be surprised if you have. These are for the Wall Patrol. The pattern on my gauntlets mean that I’m a Shift Leader- I schedule myself and others in rotation and am responsible for overseeing the southwestern eighth of our wall.”
Moore hummed.
“Is that why you’re out here? You’re used to the environment?”
Dack snuck a glance at Moore, a brief feeling of surprise flickering through his mind.
“Lizzie’s my niece. The wall-commander thought it would be a good way to get us some more recognition, and knew I had family here. I get the feeling I’ll be doing this often.”
Moore tilted his head as he stared after a couple of boys who seemed close to starting something with each other.
“What’s the stud in your ear for, then? Sign of exceptional service?”
Dack smirked.
“Birthday present from my boyfriend last year.”
The twitch in Moore’s shoulders, the flash of… something in his eyes, told Dack his vague supposition was accurate.
“Excuse me. I should go break those two up before they make too much of a scene.”
A gay Human. Interesting.
Dack felt a bit disappointed, however. This was far too easy. How had Moore made it as long as he had? Blind luck? Nobody to blatantly push his buttons like Dack’s last comment clearly did? True, most Barren didn’t bother advertising their relationship status and a primary school teacher living on the East Side wouldn’t really interact with Barren much at all.
Then again, a smarter man wouldn’t pick a position that required close interaction and scrutiny at all. A mid-level engineering position paid a bit less than being a primary school teacher but was drastically less visible.
Part of Dack felt dirty with what he knew he was going to have to do. It felt hypocritical in a way- but then Dack reminded himself of what they had told him, over and over again, every year.
“Barren aren’t Human.”
A gay Barren was a very different situation than a gay Human. A gay Human with a beard was very different than an unmarried gay Human.
Three weeks later, at another dinner, Dack asked Lizzie how Mr. Moore was doing. She said he seemed sad, and when somebody had asked him what was wrong, he said that a very good friend of his had been sent away for doing something very bad. But, he then perked up and told the class that he was getting married the next month.
Dack nodded to himself- that was how it should be. That was how the world worked.
He ignored the churning in his gut, the self-recrimination of his hypocrisy a weight upon his ear.
Dack tended to avoid family dinners when he could help it. There was always this degree of separation that undercut the volume of his rambunctious nieces and nephews, stilling the homey atmosphere of the dark brown carpet and walls, somehow lightly souring the smell of cookies in the oven. As the only Barren member of his direct family, his mother had never quite forgiven Dack for running off to the army instead of a more respectable position, like the engineers all three of his sisters had married.
Dack only tried to bring Johnathan along to one of these family dinners once. The pinched look on his mother’s face, startled look on his father’s, and midly judgemental look on his brothers-in-law (he should really remember their names) told him everything. John hadn’t even tried to bring Dack along, and once Dack had seen his family’s reactions, with John merely sending him a glance of sympathy, Dack understood why.
Dack pulled on his collar with his right hand while probing for his water filter with his left. When Dack had come home to find his youngest sister Rosa holding their niece Lizze (age five-and-three-quarters) sitting on the ratty couch in his grey, sanitized, barely-lived-in apartment in the Western Borough, his first reaction hadn’t been one of confusion but weary exasperation. He knew exactly why Rosa had come to get him, so he didn’t bother arguing.
“So Dack, I’d really appreciate it if you could help me out with this.” Marie had stated. Well, stated with the kind of expectant glint in her eye that Dack had long-since learned meant he wasn’t going to enjoy what would happen if he said ‘no.’
“I’m sorry Marie, I wasn’t paying attention. What did you want?” The brief flash of annoyance in Marie’s eyes was almost worth finding out the meaning that the glint of malicious glee in Marie’s eyes represented.
“You’re escorting Lizzie’s class on a field trip to the Wind Farm.”
“Why are we taking kids outside the walls? It’s not safe out there.”
“It’s an order from the higher-ups. They want to ease the process of being Discovered Barren.”
Dack mentally-and very nearly physically- snorted, taking a sip from his filter. It was too little too late for most of his people. Dack knew he had been one of the lucky ones- his parents disapproved far more of his membership in the Legion than his inability to have kids or homosexuality. He had had Aunt Ophelia too, and she had shown him something to latch onto in the early days when he felt his world crumbling beneath his feet.
“And if I asked my commander, I’d be told it’s a PR thing, and to go along with it?”
“It’s always nice when you remind us you’re not just a blockheaded soldier.”
Dack shrugged. An excuse to leave the Wall and still get paid didn’t sound too bad every once in a while, and supervising Lizzie would be manageable as well.
“When?”
“Monday, dear brother. Come back for dinner on Sunday to pick her up.”
“See you then.”
Dack stood separate from the milling group of children, a bit above them on the slope of the farm. From here he could see miles of green, distant forest and all eight of the turbines. Power lines stretched behind him, and if he looked behind he would see those lines stretching back to the walls of Phanes Bay.
Watching the environment around him, Dack categorized anything potentially hazardous- any potential vectors of attack- before looking at the people he was here with. The engineers and soldiers lazing about on farm duty were normal, and barely worth observation. So, too, were the children, too young for distinctive, interesting personalities to have developed yet.
Lizzie’s teacher- Mr. Moore- was a contradiction. He clearly commanded the respect of his entire class- not something Dack was willing to underestimate, children sometimes had more in common with Legionnaires than most were willing to admit- and he clearly loved his job. In fact, judging by the assured energy and satisfaction Moore seemed to exude for anyone who cared to look, Moore loved children.
He was attractive- in a nerdy way that Dack could see some people going for- reasonably young- Dack would be genuinely surprised if Moore was any older than Rosa- and Moore had a steady job.
But there was no ring on his left ring finger.
Dack didn’t see what the point of a marriage was, in all honesty, and he knew most of the Barren he knew felt the same. Family and Marriage both seemed human conceits, focused on child-rearing. Like most Barren, Dack’s family was his parents, his siblings, and his nephews and nieces.
But again, Moore wasn’t married. Dack knew Moore was Human- there was a very small subset of Barren who worked as teachers, and they were mostly split between the military academy and a couple of paths in the trade school. None of them taught at the primary schools.
But again, no ring.
“So what’s the armor represent?”
“Hm?” Dack grunted, seeing the focus of his thoughts next to him, taking advantage of Dack’s chosen vantage point to also watch the children.
“The armor. I know white shoulderpads mean police, but I’ve never seen anything quite like what you have before.”
Dack supposed he wouldn’t- white spikes, jutting a couple inches behind the shoulder, coming down about halfway to his elbows in skintight leather. Gauntlets that gave about a half an inch gap before his elbow that spiked up to just meet the bottom of his shoulder extensions, laced with concentric red and white lines forming a spiral up his arms. Not a common sight, by any means.
“I’d be surprised if you have. These are for the Wall Patrol. The pattern on my gauntlets mean that I’m a Shift Leader- I schedule myself and others in rotation and am responsible for overseeing the southwestern eighth of our wall.”
Moore hummed.
“Is that why you’re out here? You’re used to the environment?”
Dack snuck a glance at Moore, a brief feeling of surprise flickering through his mind.
“Lizzie’s my niece. The wall-commander thought it would be a good way to get us some more recognition, and knew I had family here. I get the feeling I’ll be doing this often.”
Moore tilted his head as he stared after a couple of boys who seemed close to starting something with each other.
“What’s the stud in your ear for, then? Sign of exceptional service?”
Dack smirked.
“Birthday present from my boyfriend last year.”
The twitch in Moore’s shoulders, the flash of… something in his eyes, told Dack his vague supposition was accurate.
“Excuse me. I should go break those two up before they make too much of a scene.”
A gay Human. Interesting.
Dack felt a bit disappointed, however. This was far too easy. How had Moore made it as long as he had? Blind luck? Nobody to blatantly push his buttons like Dack’s last comment clearly did? True, most Barren didn’t bother advertising their relationship status and a primary school teacher living on the East Side wouldn’t really interact with Barren much at all.
Then again, a smarter man wouldn’t pick a position that required close interaction and scrutiny at all. A mid-level engineering position paid a bit less than being a primary school teacher but was drastically less visible.
Part of Dack felt dirty with what he knew he was going to have to do. It felt hypocritical in a way- but then Dack reminded himself of what they had told him, over and over again, every year.
“Barren aren’t Human.”
A gay Barren was a very different situation than a gay Human. A gay Human with a beard was very different than an unmarried gay Human.
Three weeks later, at another dinner, Dack asked Lizzie how Mr. Moore was doing. She said he seemed sad, and when somebody had asked him what was wrong, he said that a very good friend of his had been sent away for doing something very bad. But, he then perked up and told the class that he was getting married the next month.
Dack nodded to himself- that was how it should be. That was how the world worked.
He ignored the churning in his gut, the self-recrimination of his hypocrisy a weight upon his ear.
“Barren aren’t Human.”
The situations were completely different.
Right?
hypocricy